Do this in remembrance of me
Is there a more concrete manifestation of God’s grace than food?
Food nourishes us. Without it we die. Within it reside the elements of the earth, of which we are composed and with which we are daily renewed. Food revolutionizes us through an internal, hourly insurrection of the new overthrowing the old.
Food demonstrates the intimacy of grace and work: it grows as a gift freely and abundantly the world over, yet requires effort to cultivate, process, prepare and store. Through it we have access to become not merely grateful recipients, but faithful stewards of life.
Through food we are conscripted as co-conspirators with the impossible political agenda of the universe: the cause of life over death, daily struggling to resist the entropy of the flesh until, one day, for each of us, death seemingly triumphs – only to become, in the end, food for new life.
Food represents the time-fullness of grace. Often it comes just when needed. And when it does come, food must be consumed soon or risk rotting on the shelf – no longer good for today. Content to teach us patience for tomorrow’s timely gift.
Through food we affirm that life burns more than merely fuel, but runs upon the joy of beauty and flavor as well. We skewer and sauté, dice and drizzle and gift our confections one to another for family, friends, holidays, or simple lunchtime rituals.
At it’s best, food transforms to become the consumable love of others. When we serve a meal, we serve our hearts. With it we accept, affirm, celebrate, please, delight, enjoin, and seal ourselves to one another. (At its worst, food becomes the empty and dangerous substitute of love unrequited or forsaken.)
In all these ways, and more, food feeds not only our bellies, but our hearts and minds too. More than any other single thing, it is with food that God enables the suckling of humanity’s soul.
And yet, even with an abundance of resources, one in five American families with children don’t get enough to eat. This erodes the health, creativity, dignity, and joy of millions of people in the U.S. alone and demonstrates a systemic denial of their basic human right to participate in the gift of food. Worldwide, food insecurity is nothing short of a major crisis, especially, right now, in places like Somalia
This is why ancient Jewish and Christian teachings concerning the just practice of economics draws centrally upon a story about a miracle involving food (Exodus 16 and 2 Corinthians 8). This is why the most politically subversive acts of Jesus involved sharing a meal with others (Matthew 9, Mark 2, Luke 5, etc). This is why Jesus’ very presence is symbolized by a dinner party where everyone gets plenty to eat (1 Corinthians 11) – and not, I might add, by a musical concert. And this is why Jesus’ litmus test for righteousness was not a measure of religious adherence, nor doctrinal purity, nor personal piety, but rather by the simple yet self-giving act of providing relief to the hungry and thirsty, the naked and alone (Matthew 25).
So do something about it.
If you know people who have less, invite them for lunch or dinner – often. If you don’t know people who have less, find them. Get to know them. Have a dinner party, with bread and wine. Treat them as equals, because that’s what they are.
Find a food pantry or food bank nearby and help out. Organize a food drive at work, at school, or in your neighborhood. (If you need it, I can give you step-by-step instructions). Consider giving to UNICEF’s relief fund for the famine in Somalia.
If you happen to be in North County San Diego, Interfaith runs two food pantries – one in Oceanside and one in Escondido – where last year alone we provided 480,000 meals. And we are in desperate need of donations because the need continues to increase.
Where there are hungry people, there is no gospel without food.











